Therondor Uprising
by stormrunner74
Summary: One hundred years ago, Therondor fell to a mysterious foe, Morgrim. Now heroes are uniting against him and the Empire he created, and they're not stopping until they win.


Prologue- Ruins, Rubble, Rain, and Rude Men

 **Hey Guys, Stormrunner here. So this story has been in my head a while. The character is actually what inspired my name. Enjoy. Read and Review.**

 **Disclaimer- If I owned Dungeons and Dragons, I wouldn't write Fanfiction. Actually I probably still would, but I don't own Dungeons and Dragons.**

The wall towered over the mountain pass. A tower on each end of the wall built between the mountains soared even higher. The wall was built into three levels. Each wall was slightly thinner than the one below, giving the wall a stacked appearance. The wall was decrepit, though. There were holes blasted through it, and the edges were singed as if they had been in a fire. The gate, which took up a good chunk of the bottom section of the wall, had been blasted off their hinges. Skeleton of two different sides of a long forgotten battle lay in the mud. Lightning came down, thunder booming, as the storm poured a torrential downpour onto the forgotten battlefield.

A figure approached the fallen wall. He was riding a black horse. His metal chestplate was shining clean from the rain, though the leather armor covering the rest of his body was still covered in mud. A heavy, dark green cloak covered most of his body. The hood of his cloak was pulled over his head. A sword hung at his hip, and a shield was tossed over his back, the emblem of an Oak Leaf upon it. A quiver of arrow and a longbow were in a wooden case that protected them from the rain on the horse's back, sitting behind the saddle bags. A pair of hunting knives hung from his belt, and at least six throwing knives were visible from a glance.

The horse and its rider walked up to the wall. The man climbed off the horse, and pointed to the ground.

"Stay here," he said. The horse bobbed its head twice like it understood. The man turned and walked into the inside of the wall. He pulled down his hood and drew his sword. The man had short pointed ears and electric blue eyes. His long blond hair fell down to the nape of his neck. An easy grin danced on his face as he took in the darkness. He was a half-elf. He muttered something under his breath, and lightning danced along his sword for a brief second before scattering down the hall, lighting all the torches.

He grinned, and proceeded through the ruined wall. It had been here, in this castle that a battle at the beginning of the end of a long war had been fought and lost by the late King Gailan. In these walls lay a clue to solving an age old mystery. The mystery was over a hundred years old now, and a clue could be here. He just had to find it.

The man pulled a smooth stone with a rune carved into the center out of his pocket. He tossed it and it hovered in midair a second, before flying down the hallway, and zooming up the stairs. The man jogged to the end and walked up the stairs. The rock was hovering at the top, but as the man reached it, it continued up towards the third floor. The man followed eagerly.

The rock flew towards the end of the hallway on the top floor. It flew into a room almost at the end. The man ran down, to find the rock resting on a book being clutched by the rotting skeleton of a guard. He pocketed the rock and picked up the book, opening it. He opened it, and when he found that it was a journal, he promptly flipped to the end, knowing that during or after the battle for the wall would be most important.

 _Juliar 17, 1278, EA- Entry 310_

 _The War has come. I am the last of the Northern Watch. Our Captain is dead, killed by Morgrim, and the wall has fallen to Morgrim's forces. My brothers-in-arms are dead, and I am dying. A stray arrow caught me in the gut. I won't make it to the morning. If someone finds this, I hope you can kill Morgrim for me. His forces have already moved on, heading for the capitol, Therondale._

 _His powers are unmatched. His forces were imbued with some sort of magical strength. For every one that we killed, they would kill three of ours. The holes in the wall were put there by Morgrim. His palm would heat up and a beam of heat would blast out, demolishing everything in the way._

 _In the heat of battle, our captain faced Morgrim alone. Morgrim ripped our captain's head clean off, and mounted it on a spear. A lot of people ran for Therondale soon after. I would imagine that they're still running._

 _Therondor is falling. Morgrim is coming. I hope the people are ready, because we weren't._

The journal entry cut off there. A stain that looked suspiciously like blood was towards the bottom of the page, below the final entry in the journal. The man put the journal in his satchel before slinging the satchel over his back. Suddenly, above the noise of the storm outside, the half-elf's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of several horses trotting up. Somebody had followed him. He drew a throwing knife from his boot and hid it in his palm, before descending to the first level to greet his guests.

As he peered around the corner, he groaned. A group of five Imperial soldiers were resting under the arch that used to contain the gate. Two had built a campfire, and they were currently sitting by it. However, there were six new horses here. Where was the last… The man felt something prick the back of his neck, just slightly.

"Turn around. Slowly. Hands up, above your head. Drop the sword," the guard behind him ordered. The man dropped the sword, raised his hands above his head, and turned around to face the guard, who was holding a crossbow.

"I got the intruder," the guard called to his friends. The guards grabbed their weapons and ran over. The captain pulled out a spear, while the others grabbed swords. The guards made a loose circle around him. One of the guards in front of him, to the left of the guard with a crossbow, sheathed his sword and pulled out some rope and a dagger.

"You just made a mistake, one that will cost you your life," the man told the guards.

"Oh? Why's that? Is it because you're Archiad Stormrunner, the criminal?" the captain questioned. When Archiad started at being recognized, the captain continued, "Yeah, I recognize you. You're not so tough. Six guards just caught you. I don't know what the big fuss was about." As the guard talked, Archiad slowly lowered his hands a bit. He reached out, lightning quick, and grabbed the crossbow, turning and spinning. The guard, startled, pulled the trigger, and shot the guard behind Archiad. Archiad slipped the throwing knife out of his sleeve and slashed the neck of the man to the right of the guard with the crossbow, before pivoting and throwing the knife into the heart of another guard to his left, clearing his left side. The three guards fell, and Archiad turned to the right and stepped backwards so that the remaining three were in front of him.

There was the crossbowman, a guard holding a length of rope and a dagger, as well as the captain holding a spear remaining. Archiad reached down for his sword, his eyes never leaving the captain. The captain stabbed at him, and Archiad rolled forward, launching himself into a somersault. He rolled in between the captain's legs, popped up behind him, and swiped his sword at him. The captain twisted, and parried the swipe with his spear. The captain sidestepped, and the crossbowman took a shot at Archiad. Archiad sidestepped, swung, and cut the shaft neatly in half. The two halves spiraled into the dark, and all four men paused, circling each other.

The crossbowman finished reloading his crossbow, and as he brought it up to face Archiad, Archiad hurled his sword end over end, and it buried itself in the man's chest up to the hilt. The crossbowman toppled over, dropping the crossbow in the process. The captain lunged, stabbing his spear forward. Archiad smacked it aside, and hit the captain in the face with the heel of his hand. Archiad stuck out his leg, and tripped the captain. The guard with rope and a dagger rushed at him. Archiad dodged the dagger, and snatched the rope from him. The guard swiped again, and Archiad wrapped the rope around the guard's arm with the dagger. He yanked on the rope, and spun. The guard lost his footing and slipped in the mud, dropping the dagger.

Archiad grabbed the dagger and plunged the dagger into the guard's heart. His instincts tingled slightly, and he dove to the left instinctively, as the captain's spear stabbed into the ground next to him. The captain drew his sword and grinned. Archiad dove for the crossbow lying in the mud next to the guard as the captain cleaved downwards. The sword bit into the mud, just missing Archiad. He grabbed the crossbow, aimed, and fired in the space of a second as the captain swiped again. The captain's swing missed. Archiad's shot did not.

The crossbow quarrel buried itself in the captain's chest, and the man fell over, landing on his stomach, before he rolled onto his back, groaning in pain. In the distance, thunder boomed. Archiad picked himself up and walked to the captain.

"I was wrong about you," the captain groaned, "You are tough. Your whole life from now is going to be tough. You'll watch your friends die, and for what? A king that deserves the throne? You'll never beat Morgrim. He'll kill you. Slowly. Painfully. In every way you can imagine. You'll never-" the captain was cut off by Archiad stabbing him with his own spear. As the captain lay dying, unable to speak, Archiad spoke.

"You're wrong about that. My life's been hard since the beginning, not since now. I don't have friends either. Morgrim can't take anything from me. That's why I'll win." With that, Archiad pulled the spear out, killing the captain instantly. Archiad lined the bodies up, and took what he needed. He added the rations to his bag. The money was put into his moneypouch. The weapons were rolled up in a horse blanket and thrown over the back of the nicest of the horses that the guard brought, probably the captain's horse. Archiad took that horse and tied it next to his horse and brought them both under the arch, where he lay down a bedroll on a small dry patch of stone. He lay down, and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
